White Christmas
by Tisha P. Moon
Summary: Christmas Eve, Saileen (Sam Eileen) oneshot. Mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst. No supernatural AU. A look at what might've been if Sam and Eileen were together and had a child.


Author's Note: The timeline is that Sam and Eileen met at the same time they did on the show (mid season 11), dated a year, got married, and waited a year to have a kid. Hope you enjoy! Oh, and all signing is in italics, except for one instance of thinking which should be clear enough.

P.S. No beta for this, so all mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's characters, places, or things.

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Christmas Eve, 2022

* * *

Eileen leaned silently against the door frame, arms folded across her body, eyes intent.

She was watching her husband sing their daughter to sleep.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know."

The way his mouth moved slowly and carefully, and the purposeful rise and fall of his adam's apple as he held the higher notes and rumbled out low ones were what gave it away. She thought of it as a rumble because that's what it always felt like. Either when he accidentally spoke while they had their arms wrapped around each other in a hug, his head placed carefully atop hers or when she would lightly place a hand over his throat to feel him speak.

Her hearing aid let in the tiniest bit of song.

"Where the treetops glisten, and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow."

The song was definitely doing its job. Eileen watched as Emma's eyes drooped and jerked back open several times as the three year old fought to stay awake. It was no use though. Sam's soothing voice, combined with the soft glow of the Christmas lights they'd strung up for her overpowered even the iron will of a three year old who didn't want to sleep. Her eyes slid shut with the happy smile still fixed on her face.

Eileen's own smile grew as she stared adoringly at the way Sam's hair fell around his face as he softly placed a kiss on their daughter's forehead, singing the last line.

"And may all your Christmases be white."

He held out his hand toward her, palm facing away from himself, only his thumb, index finger, and pinky sticking out.

"I love you," he mouthed softly.

He pushed his hair back away from his face as he got up off the bed. Eileen took a second to admire his backside as he bent slightly to tuck the pink coverlet around Emma, fighting off any cold that their wood furnace couldn't keep away. He finally noticed his wife watching as he turned around.

Smiling shyly, he came across the room to meet her, his face turning a lovely shade of red that she could see even through the light of the pink nightlight.

"Don't be embarrassed," she whispered softly as they each slid an arm around the others waist. "She loved it." She felt a hand on her chin tilting her eyes up to his so he could "speak" to her.

His hand fell away from her chin to point one finger at himself, then moved up to place his fingertips on the side of his forehead, above his eye. _I know._

He looked out toward Emma, a small smile on his lips. But the haunted look in his eye spoke of something else on his mind. "I just…"

"Worry?" Eileen finished for him. "Sam, she's going to be fine." His worry-filled eyes turned on her. "We _both_ are." She pulled her arm out from around him to make the sign for "both". One hand made a _V_ out of her index and middle finger, while the other made a fist around those fingers. She closed the the fingers forming a _V_ as she pulled them through the fist.

Sam sighed in frustration as he signed _I know_ again. _I know in my mind. But my heart…_

 _Has a hard time believing it,_ Eileen signed back, once again finishing his sentence for him.

He nodded.

Eileen understood. Her husband had lost too many people he cared about to ever truly feel the ones left were safe.

When Sam was fifteen, during Easter break his older brother Dean had come home from college. While Sam and his father John had run to the grocery store, leaving Dean and their mother Mary at home, a fire started. They had come home to find fire trucks outside of their burning home. Dean and Mary both perished inside.

A year later, John was driving under the influence, still not having found a way to cope, when he crashed into a semi-truck in the oncoming lane. Sam found out from the Child Protection Services agents who came to pick him up from the crappy motel room they'd been renting. He got put in foster care the next day.

Then when he went to college, his first girlfriend Jessica died in a fire that started in the apartment they shared. If a fireman hadn't held him back in time he would've died trying to save her.

He and Eileen hadn't met until many years later, after college. They bumped into each other in a coffee shop. Literally. Sam ended up spilling his coffee all over her. They hit it off from there.

So yeah, she understood Sam's current struggle. To enjoy a happy moment without the terrifying fear of "what if"'s was almost impossible for him.

But they'd already discussed this topic a thousand times and Eileen knew that Sam didn't need another pointless lecture. He needed distraction.

"Hey," she said, lightly slapping his chest to get his attention. "Let's go make margaritas to drink while we wrap all those presents."

She watched his face light up in a grin, his knowing eyes capturing hers. _Yeah, he knows what I'm doing._ He showed his gratitude by drawing her in for a slow, soft kiss. She willingly molded herself to him as he drew her tight against him body, deepening the kiss.

They both jerked quickly apart though, startled, as their daughter mumbled loudly, shifting on the bed. Stifling laughter at their own jumpiness, they crept out of the room to head for the kitchen, smiles large on their faces.

* * *

They spent the rest of their night wrapping presents for Emma, for each other, and for Eileen's family, who they were seeing over the holidays when they took their vacation in Ireland.

Sipping their margaritas made them both a little giggly. Pretty soon there was more wrapping paper flying through the air of their bedroom then on the presents themselves. Laughing, rolling on the floor, avoiding the balls of paper flying through the air…

The quiet hilarity ended when Eileen went to kiss Sam's face and realized what she'd actually done was stick a red bow on his cheek. They both glanced around for the first time in awhile, and realized what a disaster their room had become.

Sam looked at Eileen, noticed the little bits of tape and paper clinging to her hair, her face red from drink and exertion. He thought she was beautiful.

Eileen looked at Sam, at the red bow stuck to his cheek, his hair fluffy and flyaway from all the ducking and dodging. She loved him more than ever.

They came together in a kiss, hands on each other's faces. Their hands pulled each toward the other, as if their lips could possibly get any closer. Deeper and deeper they fell under each other's spell, letting their emotions take over.

Eileen felt full. Full with the apparently unconditional love this man gave her, full with the joy of a husband who loved his family so completely… and heck, full with the spirit of Christmas! For there surely was some kind of magic in the air, something that made her feel light and joyous. And it wasn't the alcohol in her system, she was sober enough to know that. No, there was a definite charge in the air. Looking into Sam's eyes, she saw everything she felt reflected back.

They kissed fervently for a few more minutes before remembering that they'd have to be up early tomorrow. Emma would be up at 6am by the latest.

Cleaning up, actually wrapping the presents, putting away their glasses, and getting ready for bed took another half an hour. The clock struck midnight just as they were settling into their large king bed.

Eileen felt Sam's large hand around her much tinier wrist in the dark. First he guided her index finger to the bare skin just below his throat, then crossed both her arms over her chest, and lastly turning her finger to point at herself. _I love you._

She did the same motions back to him with his own limbs. _I love you too._ "Merry Christmas," she whispered into the dark.

She felt him place her hand gently on his throat, so she could feel his reply, if not hear it. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

And he kissed her forehead just to make sure she got the message.

The couple lay fast asleep in each other's arms a few minutes later, content smiles matching their daughter's big on their faces.

 _And may all your Christmases be white._

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Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this! Please don't hesitate to leave a review, and if you want to talk come find me on Twitter at [insert "at" symbol here]saileensamwitch


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